Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger. Oh, yes; of Ruth herself he knew much; but the more he mulled over what he knew, the deeper grew his chagrin. F. “Who took care of you after she died?” “My father. ” “It’s been coming on since first I came into the laboratory. You're not afraid, Mr. “Don’t!” she said, weakly, as he had bent down and put one arm about her and seized her hands with his disengaged hand and kissed her—kissed her almost upon her lips. She pointed suddenly at the portrait. Then came the great day. Her name, he said, was as pretty as its wearer. A man’s children nowadays are not his own.
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